


(I Had a Dream About) A Burning House

by ArwenLalaith



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/F, mentions of miscarriages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:58:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7851667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLalaith/pseuds/ArwenLalaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In one day, Emily Prentiss had lost her sight, her job, and her husband. It was also the day she found out she was pregnant.</p><p>Three days later, she met Jennifer Jareau and her life changed again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In one day, Emily Prentiss had lost her sight, her job, and her husband.

It was also the day she found out she was pregnant.

She and Derek had been trying for a baby for nearly five years at that point and she had already miscarried three times. She had been so anxious about trying again after the last one and had almost considered giving up. Derek had convinced her to try one last time before they gave up and the knowledge that he'd be by her side the entire time, no matter the outcome had given her the courage to go through with it. She didn't think she'd be able to do it without him...

Lying in the hospital, more alone than she'd ever been and facing the biggest struggles of her life, she fully expected to miscarry again within the week from a combination of stress, grief, and physical trauma. She'd made her peace with that eventuality, as much as possible, since she hadn't truly expected anything to be different this time; when they'd tried for this baby, she hadn't truly expected anything to be different, hadn't allowed herself to really hope. She'd anticipated another disappointment, her husband at her side sharing the loss, and with time maybe she'd be able to think about adoption without feeling like such a failure.

Even in her worst nightmares, though, she hadn't imagined facing any of it alone.

......

Even as her doctors told her that her blindness would likely be temporary and she'd regain her sight once the swelling in her brain went down, Emily knew that wouldn't be the case.

The same way she'd known the morning of the race that something bad was going to happen. The same way she knew Derek wasn't going to wake up despite everyone's attempts to resuscitate him. She knew she was never going to see again.

By the third day, the doctors seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion and the hospital social worker sent someone to speak with her about her life going forwards. 

The knock on the door startled her; her other senses hadn't quite caught up with the new impairment and the residual ringing in her ears from the explosion didn't help. She didn't particularly want to speak with anyone at the moment – Derek's mother had finally left her alone for the first time to make funeral arrangements and she was waiting for the tears to come now that no one was there to see her cry.

“Mrs. Morgan?” The voice from the doorway was unsure, like she knew she was intruding.

Emily thought about asking if she got to keep the last name now that her husband was dead, but thought her brand of dark humor might be considered in poor taste. “Just call me Emily,” she said instead.

“Alright. Emily. I'm Jennifer, the social work department referred your case to me.”

“Shrink?” Emily guessed.

“Technically, yes, I have a degree in psychiatry. But I'm not here for that. I run a program to help the newly blind adapt to their circumstances. We teach people how to get around the city, how to read braille, and other coping strategies and if you qualify, we help find a place to live equipped for your needs and pair you with a seeing-eye dog.”

“Can you do all that in seven months?” Emily asked, unable to help the bitter edge to her voice. 

“Right,” Jennifer said. Emily heard the flipping of papers. “Your file mentioned you're expecting. Congratulations. We actually have a support group for blind mothers that many of our members find very helpful, among other resources for new mothers.”

“And what about after that? What about the next eighteen years when I'm raising a child alone?”

Jennifer made a sympathetic noise and rested a hand on her shoulder, surprising her. “I know it's overwhelming now and you've got a difficult journey ahead of you, but right now, try to just take it one day at a time.” Emily gave a derisive snort. “I know it sounds trite, coming from me, but looking too far ahead is just going to paralyze you with fear. Just trust me and I promise I'll get you through this.”


	2. Chapter 2

Emily spent the first week after being released from the hospital in bed. She was in pain with several broken ribs, but more than that, she was overwhelmingly depressed. She couldn't bring herself to help with the plans for Derek's funeral and she absolutely didn't want to talk about the baby.

Her mother-in-law left her alone for the most part, understanding all too well the grief of being widowed young. Aside from bringing her meals and reminding her to call Jennifer back, Fran was a silent presence in the house, busying herself with the funeral arrangements.

In another day or two, his sisters would arrive in town and Emily would be forced to face their pity. She took small comfort in the knowledge that at least she wouldn't have to see it in their eyes.

"Please don't tell Sarah and Desi..." Emily pleaded, when she heard Fran's soft footsteps across the bedroom carpet as she brought a glass of water and a prenatal vitamin. "I can't handle any more pity if...if I lose it. Don't tell them."

"I won't tell them," she promised. "But for what it's worth, being pitied doesn't make you weak."

"Being pitied makes you a victim," Emily retorted. "I'm not a victim. I never have been and I refuse to be one now."

Fran didn't argue with her logic. "What happened to Derek wasn't your fault. None of this was. It wasn't your fault that you lost those babies and it won't be your fault if it happens again. I know Derek would want you to know that."

Emily rolled over, away from her voice. "I need to rest now. Please leave," she whispered. She could almost feel the concern rolling off her mother-in-law in waves as she shut the door behind her.

......

The day before the funeral, Jennifer showed up at her house.

Emily hadn't purposely been ignoring her, she was just really too overwhelmed to deal with anything at the moment. And maybe, a tiny part of her had been hoping she'd miraculously open her eyes one morning to find she could see again and accepting Jennifer's help meant accepting that wasn't going to happen.

She knocked on the bedroom door, then announced her presence. "Do you mind if I come in and talk to you?"

Emily sighed and relented because she needed help at the moment, loathe as she was to admit it. "Yeah, come in." She stood in front of the open closet, frustrated nearly to the point of tears. "Apparently color doesn't have a feel," she said blithely. "I have no idea where my funeral dress is."

"You have a funeral dress?" Jennifer asked, stunned.

"I work at the FBI," she said by way of explanation. "Well, I guess I did. Probably don't have much use for a blind agent."

"You might be surprised," Jennifer said, "I can look into it for you, if you'd like." She crossed the room and peered into the closet that Emily appeared to have ransacked in her frustration. "Do you want me to help find your dress? In the future, I can teach you ways to organize your clothes to give you more independence."

"It's the plain black v-neck with three-quarter sleeves." She was silent for a moment. "I hope it still fits, I have no idea what my belly looks like right now."

"You can hardly see it," Jennifer assured.

"Good," Emily whispered, which Jennifer thought was kind of odd, but didn't comment on. "Are you coming to the funeral?" Emily asked eventually.

"I can if you'd like me to be there. I'm here to help you in any way you need."

Emily frowned. "Don't you have a support group to run?"

Jennifer wasn't sure if that was meant to be insulting or not, but she chose not to take it that way. "Technically, yes, I run the organization, but I've chosen to work directly with you, as you're something of a special case."

"That makes me feel so special," Emily deadpanned.

"I can find you a different case-worker if you'd feel more comfortable with someone else," she offered.

Emily shook her head. "I don't know what I want," she admitted, "But for now, I think you're the right choice."

"Great," Jennifer said, and Emily could almost hear the smile in her voice. "You can call me JJ, by the way. Now, do you need help picking a pair of shoes?"


	3. Chapter 3

Derek Morgan's funeral was a solemn affair.

It seemed to Emily that half of the Chicago FBI field office and even more of the local police force showed up to mourn their fallen brother. She wasn't surprised to see so many people there – Derek had been a sweet man who touched the lives of everyone he encountered. A few of the victims they'd rescued over the years came up to shake her hand and offer condolences and she wished she was able to see their faces, to know if their grief for him was real.

She was glad so many people were there to remember him.

She just wished they weren't all giving her that look of pity as she stood beside the grave with red-rimmed eyes. She could feel their sympathetic glances on her like ice water.

Sometimes, she wished it had been her that died in the explosion instead of him. Derek had always been the resilient one. He would have been okay without her, in time.

In her hands, she held a rose so tightly that she could feel the thorns biting her palm. The warm feeling of blood filling her fist kept her from acting on the urge to scream until her lungs burned.

Fran stood next to her, holding her empty hand, crying enough for the both of them. Emily wanted to cry, she really did, but for whatever reason the tears refused to come. Yesterday, in preparation for the funeral, JJ had told her that there was no wrong way to grieve and that it was okay not to cry.

She'd known that of course, had said it to any number of victims and family members. Why, then, did it feel like such a betrayal to have dry eyes in front of all these people who had known her husband and even more who hadn't?

In the end, she hadn't been able to speak, choking on her words and fighting down the urge to vomit. She felt like she'd failed him, though his family and JJ had all assured her that she hadn't and no one who wasn't going through what she was had any right to judge her for it.

All she really wanted, though, was to hear it from him. To hear him laugh and joke about Sergio having gotten her tongue. Knowing him, then he probably would have kissed her and joked that it seemed to be working fine to him. His jokes were cheesy and predictable and often groan-worthy, but oh how she wanted that right now. Anything at all to make her smile again the way only he could.

God, how she missed him. It was only really starting to hit her that she was never going to see him again. That she was going to be raising another human without him...she could barely take care of herself when she could see, how could she care for someone else now that she couldn't?

JJ assured her that many blind mothers managed just fine and their children turned out entirely normal. But she worried about her children turning out badly just by having her for a mother in the first place...

Long after everyone else had wandered away from the graveside, back into their cars and their lives, Emily sat beside the overturned earth, waiting for some feeling she wasn't sure would ever come. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, but she knew she'd know it once she felt it.

She thought about talking to God, the way Fran encouraged her to, but she found it hard to speak to someone who had not only taken her babies, but her husband as well, before she'd had a chance to say goodbye to any of them. Everyone she loved was too good, too pure for God to let her keep them.

She supposed she could understand that. She wasn't a very good person. She'd just been lucky enough to find people who were good and love them long enough to ruin them.

JJ sat down beside her without saying a word. They had spent enough time together now that Emily could recognize her perfume.

"I've been to a lot of funerals," Emily said, breaking the silence. "I've buried friends and partners and family and even complete strangers. So, why does this feel so different? Why does it feel like I'm choking on the smell of wet earth as they throw dirt on my husband's casket? Why does it feel like I'm down there instead of him? I wish it was me."

"I know," JJ whispered, clasping Emily's hand. She didn't pull it away this time. "It will pass. I promise it will. It's just going to take a little time.


	4. Chapter 4

Emily had tried her best to discourage Fran from coming with her to her first prenatal appointment. She was sure that she had probably miscarried by now and she didn't want Fran to have to bear that grief, the knowledge that she wasn't going to have a grandchild to carry on Derek's name, on top of everything she already had to carry.

But Fran would take no discouraging. She insisted that Emily needed someone there with her to help her through the pain of not having Derek there and eventually she'd given in because her will to fight seemed to have died along with him.

Practically since their first date, Fran had been bugging Derek to give her grandchildren. Derek had often joked that the only reason she'd had children in the first place was to have grandchildren. She always said that Sarah and Desiree were in no hurry to settle down, so it was up to him and Emily to make her a grandma.

Emily had always known she'd wanted children, practically since she'd been one herself. She had often thought about the kind of mother she'd be, how she'd do things differently from her own mother. And from the first moment she'd met him, she'd known Derek would be a wonderful father, that he was the one she wanted for her children.

The universe, of course, had other plans for them. The first pregnancy had been the one that lasted longest before she'd miscarried – nearly twenty weeks. She had been devastated when she'd started bleeding. It had been a little girl and they had already named her Sadie (because Derek called her his little princess).

The first time, they'd bathed her and dressed her and had a little funeral for her. And then, life had gone on, as it always does. They tried to shut out the memory of their dead baby girl and only occasionally did it leak out, when they saw an especially small baby or when they heard the name Sadie.

The next pregnancy hadn't lasted nearly as long and they only got shorter until they were nearly over before they began. They stopped naming them, stopped having funerals, and eventually she stopped even hoping. Derek held onto hope, as was his manner – she'd loved that about him in the beginning, but she'd slowly grown to hate it, that he always believed that the next time would be the one.

She'd yelled at him sometimes. Terrible things that she wished she could take back. He never let the barbs she threw hurt him, though, knowing she said them in pain and in sadness and none of them were truly meant to hurt him, so he didn't let them. He took the things she shouted at him and once they died on her tongue, he wrapped her in his arms and she would cry until there was nothing left and he'd reassure her that the next time would be different.

Derek Morgan had been a better man than she deserved.

And God, she wished he was there with her right then.

She'd grown to hate ultrasounds, knowing they'd never tell her what she wanted to hear. Today, there were a lot of things she wanted to hear and none of them were going to come true, so she didn't even bother hoping for anything.

Fran held her hand tightly as she lay back on the table, whispering to her that Derek was with them right then and that he was so proud of her for her strength, that he couldn't wait to see their baby. Emily just nodded, unable to find anything to say around the lump in her throat, afraid that if she did the sob trapped in her chest would come bursting out.

......

Emily emerged from her appointment with a nearly giddy mother-in-law and a photograph of her child in hand. Her still living child with a still beating heart – she'd made the doctor check four times, unable to believe it the first three.

She was feeling rather frantic now, trying to imagine having a baby in her arms in a few months time and unable to really picture it as she hadn't allowed herself to for so long. She had too many things left to do and she didn't know how to do them anymore.

She was alone.

She was terrified.


End file.
